An Exercise in Letting Your Guard Down
by Senko-Chan
Summary: Harry helps his lover loosen up.  HPLV SLASH!  Don't like, don't read.


Disclaimer: Don't own HP.

Notes: This is a bit of drabble that got out of hand. It's also probably the raciest thing I've written to date, so any comments or critiques would be welcomed. Also this is HP/LV slash, don't like don't read! This is the first fanfic I've written in well over a year, so I definitely need to get make into practice

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It was with a sudden violence that the Dark Lord Voldemort awoke from sleep. This was odd in itself, never did he wake with a racing heart and shallow breaths. His surprise at this quickly dispersed when he saw the position he was in, and was replaced by a maddening fury. He was tied up. The most feared wizard in England, hell in the whole wizarding world, was tied to his bedposts. It took all of his self-control to temporarily squash his anger so that he could think. He was undoubtedly the most powerful wizard alive, but there was only one other wizard with enough idiocy, gall, arrogance, and masochism who would dare do this to him. Said wizard took this opportunity to peek his head into the room.

"Morning, sunshine," Harry Potter, savior of the Wizarding world, said with a bright smile. The smile only got bigger as he saw his lover's expression. Anyone else would have quaked under the absolutely murderous glare that was being directed to the young wizard. Harry, however, was very unusual in his resistance to the Dark Lord's fury.

When Voldemort spoke, it was a low hiss. "Untie me _now_," he snarled, "and I'll kill you quickly." Lucky for him, "quickly" was such a relative term. The older wizard wouldn't reduce himself to thrashing in his bonds, but the magic-repressing ropes around his wrists and ankles were chafing him in the most obnoxious fashion. But more much infuriating than the physical discomfort was the humiliation of being bound. This was what he got for letting his guard down.

Harry seemed oblivious to the other wizard's rage as he leisurely strolled to the bed. He ran his fingers over the rich fabric, taking pleasure in the sensation.

"I suppose I could let you go," he replied airily, "But I think that there are much more interesting things I could do with you." Harry saw crimson eyes glancing around the room. "Your wand is being safely kept elsewhere. I thought it would be best not to risk it being near."

Seeing that Harry was unaffected by his normal terror tactics, Voldemort tried a more subtle one.

"Harry," he almost purred, "What fun can we have if I'm all tied up? Surely it would be much more satisfying if I were free to," he paused as if examining all the possibilities, "if I were free to touch and lick and stroke you as well." He mentally smirked as he saw his lover's face flush. "Let me go and I'll make sure it's worth your while," he said with all the conviction he could. And he would make it worth Harry's while, after he tortured him into the brink of madness for daring to tie him up like a damn hog.

Either Harry could sense his thoughts through the bond or the younger wizard just knew Voldemort too well. The Dark Lord found his fury rising again as Harry just smirked and leaned down to press his lips against his ear.

"Calm down," he whispered sensually, "Just enjoy this. It'll be good for you." Voldemort could hardly see how being tied up and molested could possibly be good for him. And Harry just laughed when he brought up that point.

"You need to learn how to relax," Harry explained, "How to just let go. It's ok to trust someone." Voldemort was about to make a very caustic remark about how he had no desire to trust anyone, particularly the man who was for almost two decades his mortal enemy. But the words fell short on his lips as Harry began cutting up his nightshirt with a muttered spell. This was quickly getting out of the dark wizard's control. He was ignoring the fact that he had never really been able to control Harry. He always managed to surprised him at the most inconvenient times. Like now.

His thoughts were interrupted as warm hands lightly caressed his chest. Fingertips trailed their way from his neck to his nipples down to the edge of his pants.

"Let's think about this logically," Harry said softly. "There is no way out of this. I've been planning this for awhile now. And trust me," he punctuated this with a kiss to his lover's neck, "there is nothing you can do. So just enjoy it." He paused, "If you want, just think of it as me servicing you."

And Merlin damn him, but he was right. Voldemort had already gone through all the possibilities in his mind, without his wand and with strong magic-binding ropes, his options were really limited. He was trapped. By the green-eyed idiot who just wouldn't die.

The dark wizard didn't deign to reply, but stayed silent as his pants met the same fate as his shirt. Hot kisses made their way across his chest while hands ran up and down his thighs. There was no word of surrender, no obvious letting go. Just a slight relaxation in the Dark Lord's body that Harry took as a very encouraging sign. His mouth wandered lower, until it was exploring the other man's thighs. Harry magically got rid of the last remaining cloth on Voldemort's body and took in the sight. He had to admit, more than just wanting his lover to open up to him a little, Harry had also been dying to see the man like this. Naked and utterly exposed. His body taut from the ropes and his face just slightly flushed from Harry's ministrations. And completely under his control. It was amazingly erotic. And Harry intended to savor it while he could.

His tongue swept across the Dark Lord's length before he took the member into his mouth. Harry smirked at his lover's sudden intake of breath. He had gotten quite good at pleasuring Voldemort orally during their time together. Now was the time to show just how good he had gotten.

The crimson-eyed man kept his mouth firmly shut as Harry made excellent use of his tongue and lips. He was already in a degrading position, no need to make it worse by, god forbid, moaning or making any of those whoreish sounds that Harry was never able to contain. Instead, he gazed down at Harry pleasuring him and tried not to squirm. He supposed he could justify this by saying that the savior of the Wizarding World just couldn't resist going down on him. Had planned carefully just for the honor of pleasuring him. That thought caused Voldemort's lips to twitch in a smirk, before Harry did a particularly wonderful little thing that made thinking a little difficult. The pleasure mounted and mounted until ... it stopped. The Dark Lord, whose eyes had just closed, opened them up in order to glare properly at his lover. But once he saw Harry twirling his wand around his fingers, with a wicked smirk, he began to feel a little concerned. There had to be a limit to what Harry would do to him tied up – his Gryffindor traits were too prevalent to take advantage of someone's vulnerability. Not that he was vulnerable in the slightest, Voldemort thought quickly.

"Have you heard of the 'Frustration Spell?'" Voldemort tried not to wince. He was most definitely familiar with that spell.

Harry still decided to explain. "It's quite simple. The spell just keeps someone from ... finishing sexually." Wicked delight shone in his green eyes, "Hence the name frustration spell. I heard that it could be rather fun when used properly. And rather torturous when not."

Voldemort was much more familiar with the more painful uses of the spell. But perhaps it would be better not to mention that to Harry. Better not to give him anymore ideas.

Harry flicked his wand and cast the spell. The older man felt a tightness form in his more private areas, followed by the return of a certain naughty tongue. God damn that boy. Voldemort felt pressure mounting in his body, pleasure coursing through his veins. His entire world became focused on the young man between his legs and the wonderful things that he was doing to him. The pressure finally grew too much, and Voldemort thrust his hips up, wanting to find release. But none came. Instead, the tightness around his balls increased, deferring his relief. He cursed mentally. Frustration spell indeed.

While the older wizard was falling deeper and deeper into unfulfilled pleasure, his lover was enjoying himself tremendously. Harry continued to suck and fondle while watching the Dark Lord writhe under him. He himself was quite a bit aroused, but decided against taking his own pleasure. That would be taking it too far... for this time at least. Harry would have to be extra clever if he ever wanted this to happen again. But that was fine with him, it was good exercise for his Slytherin side.

Minutes continued to fly by. What had been pleasure was steadily becoming more painful as Voldemort gasped and longed for release. Harry could easily see that desperation in the older man's jerky movements and ragged breath. He would release him, after he asked for it of course.

"Tom," Harry said sweetly, after he had removed his mouth from the hot member, "Would you like to come?" A simple question that they both knew the answer to. It would just be a matter of getting the dark wizard to admit it.

"First of all, you damn brat, don't ever call me that again," Voldemort was able to spit out, more coherent with the lack of stimulation, "And no, I don't particularly feel the need for ... _ah_!" Harry had thought that would be a good opportunity to squeeze his hand up and down his lover's length. His touch was far from gentle. Instead, it was hard and fast, and flooded Voldemort's body with sensation. Pleasure and pain raced through him and he lifted his hips to the hand that was driving him mad.

"Are you sure," Harry asked innocently, "Because I rather think that you do." He glanced down to his lover's body. "You're body certainly seems a little... frustrated?" This is where it got tricky, Harry thought. He knew the other man's self-control and sheer stubbornness. He could probably stay here for hours, dying for orgasm but too damn proud to say it. He would have to convince him otherwise if this was to end soon.

"You and I both know what you want. And I would love to give it to you. All you have to do is ask for it," Harry said smoothly, "and you'll get it. No big deal." He licked his lover's shaft again. "Just say the words."

_IhatehimIhatehimIhatehim_ were the only words that Voldemort could think of at that moment. They were both too damn stubborn; this could last for hours. Which was just unacceptable. And he did want it. His entire body was crying for release, his balls were straining against the magic tightness that surrounded them. His dazed mind tried to find ways to justify surrender. He had work to do, being the most powerful dark wizard in Europe required lots of work. World conquest was a good reason for a bit of a hit to his pride. Not to mention, the sooner he got free, the sooner he could take his revenge. He took a deep breath.

"Make me come," he voice rasped.

Harry knew he would pay for this, but he couldn't resist. "What's the magic word?" he asked with a smirk.

Voldemort tried to kill him with a glare, but his lover proved resistant yet again. Damn fucking asshole of a Boy who just wouldn't _fucking die_.

The Dark Lord's body trembled, but with rage or frustrated arousal, Harry couldn't tell. After a moment fraught with tension, his lover finally gave.

"_Please_," he hissed, as if it were the most filthy word in existence. And to him, it probably was.

"Why certainly," Harry practically chirped. He dipped his head to suck at Voldemort's member again. The older man couldn't resist making a savage noise in the back of his throat. Within moments he was struggling maddingly against his bonds. When he thought that he reached the threshold of pain, Harry took his wand and murmured the counter-curse around the length in this mouth. If Voldemort could think, he would tell Harry of the dangers of casting magic with a full mouth, but as it was, the moment the spell was lifted, he came hard and violently. He rammed his length into Harry's mouth and cursed aloud. Harry continued to suck as his lover orgasmed. He figured it was the least he could do for putting him in this position in the first place.

After a moment, stillness reigned. Then Harry removed his mouth from his lover's organ and moved up on the bed to rest beside him. Voldemort's eyes were closed and his breathing was slowing down, though Harry could tell he was by no means asleep. Harry smiled happily. He knew that there were limits to how far his lover could be pushed, how much he was willing to change. But this was a step in the right direction. Trust, the lowering of barriers, was a necessary prerequisite to a deeper connection with the other man. He placed a chaste kiss on the other man's cheek and murmured the spell that would release his lover... only to have to use his seeker reflexes to dodge to the hard, wooden floor. He had barely recovered when another nasty hex flew at him and singed his hair. Harry jumped and started running to the door, a suspiciously green spell hitting the door behind him.

"You are going to _pay_," Harry heard as he raced down the hallway, a Dark Lord hot on his trail. Harry couldn't refrain from laughing, his lover had _such_ a temper. And he was sure that he would pay; he was looking quite forward to it actually.

END

Well, there it is. Reviews also welcome!


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